


through the years, we'll be together

by leiascully



Series: A Thousand And One Nights [6]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, F/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex gets a not-quite-Christmas surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	through the years, we'll be together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trialia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/gifts).



> Timeline: early-middish December 2012, before Alex's con in Australia  
> A/N: Again, I didn't do any research for this (except reading one of Karen's tweets) and I have no idea if the timeline is in anyway feasible. Verisimilitude is not my major concern. It's still Christmas in my time zone, so merry happy etc.  
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that bears no resemblance to and claims no knowledge of the people about whom it is written.

Alex takes the elevator up to Karen's flat, carrying a bottle of wine and a few nicely wrapped picture frames - you can never have enough picture frames. She's delighted that Karen's settled in LA. It isn't as if she hasn't got friends in Hollywood, because she does, but British friends are another thing entirely, and Kaz is something beyond that. They're family. They're Ponds.

"Alex!" Karen shouts as she opens the door, and she flings her arms out for a hug. Alex steps in and holds Karen tightly for a moment, and then hands her the bottle of whisky.

"Brilliant," Karen says, turning the bottle in her hands. 

"Well, I knew you liked Tomatin," Alex tells her. "Nothing like it for a Christ-house-mas warming party. Certainly keeps you warm, for a start."

Karen giggles. "God, it's so good to see you!"

"Likewise," Alex says. "Los Angeles, eh?"

"Yeah," Karen says, looking happy. "For now! Who knows?"

"I'll be happy to show you around if you ever need the tour," Alex tells her. 

"I shouldn't take one of those star tours, eh?" Karen teases.

"Well, don't take Craig Ferguson's," Alex jokes. "Although being fellow Scots, he might actually show you reasonable parts of town."

"Maybe," Karen says. "But come in! Have a drink! Have several drinks!" 

"Not going to show me the place?" Alex teases. 

Karen gets a sly look. "Maybe one of the other guests will."

Alex pauses and narrows her eyes, but Karen just giggles. "Go on! Mingle! I've got to play the happy hostess. Go and have a drink."

"Hmm," Alex says, but she goes into the living room. There's tinsel and fairy lights everywhere; it's only early December, but why not? She doesn't really know most of the guests, but she nods to someone here and there as she pours herself a drink. They're mostly younger than her usual crowd, but then in the corner she sees a reddish head she knows very well, and an ugly jumper under it. Arthur never did know how to dress himself, but then, it's a sort of a Christmas do, so it's all right. She walks toward him. He's talking to someone quite short - Jenna, Alex sees as she gets closer. And next to her, slumping against the wall so that she couldn't see him before, Matt. Alex's heart thuds in her chest.

Jenna sees her first and waves. "Ms Kingston!"

"Oh, lord, please call me Alex," Alex tells her as she accepts an enormous hug from Arthur, who slings his arm around her shoulders. "Hello, Dad."

"Hello," he says in his Arthur way. "Did Kaz not tell you we were coming?"

"Didn't breathe a word," Alex says. "Cheeky."

"It's lovely to meet you," Jenna tells her. "I was disappointed I wasn't in an episode with you."

"I suppose it's all up to Stephen," Alex says. Jenna's tiny and adorable, even cuter than she was on the screen, and the smallest pang of jealousy shoots through Alex. She'll never be so young again, and she's never been so precious and stylish. Jenna is bubbly, confident, flirtatious. Her hair tumbles over her shoulders in a way Alex has never been able to replicate. Alex feels old for a moment, and rather frumpy, but then she looks up and catches Matt's eye at long last and any thought of inadequacy vanishes from her mind. The look on his face is hungry, longing; the same ache is in his eyes as Alex feels in her bones.

"Phwoar," Arthur says, catching a bit of it. "Jen, you look like you need another drink."

"Perfect!" Jenna says, sparkling at him. 

Alex stands where she is and looks at Matt. If she steps any closer, she won't be able to stop herself flinging herself into his arms. She wants desperately to kiss him, so desperately that she's nearly trembling, but they're in a crowded room, in a city that has probably the highest concentration of paparazzi in the world. It wouldn't be prudent. 

"Hello," Matt says finally, his voice low and husky, and her knees nearly give out. 

"Hello," she says, trying to keep her words light. "You didn't tell me you'd be in town."

"A Christmas surprise," he says. "Bit early, I know, but you've got Australia and all, and I promised the family I'd be home for the actual day."

"I see," she says.

"It's all a bit unbearable, isn't it?" he says, finally standing up straight. He looks good in a long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans, tossing his forelock out of his eyes. 

"Which bit?" she asks, her heart squeezing.

"The bit where I haven't seen you for ages and now I can't even kiss you properly," he says, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. She very nearly can't resist the urge to turn her lips to his, to kiss him until all they can see is stars. Her legs wobble under her, but she steadies as his fingers twine through hers.

"Yes, that bit is rather difficult to handle," she agrees. "The perils of not having a proper on-location career, I suppose."

"Everything's a bit rubbish without you," he murmurs. "God, I wanted to come and see you."

"What stopped you?" she asks, swaying into one hip as if she might lean against him. 

"Well, work," he said. "And I didn't want to intrude." A worried crease develops between his eyes. "You've got a family and all."

She carefully doesn't mention the amount of time she's spent daydreaming about introducing him to her daughter. He's been incredible with every child on the set; she's certain he'd be amazing with her own child. But it's always too much to consider, too serious. She wouldn't be able to bear it if things didn't work out. She's given him her own heart, but her daughter's isn't something she's willing to risk. 

"It might have worked," she says. "But thank you. Really. _Thank you_. It's sweet of you to think of me. Of us. I'm very grateful."

"Ah, Ms Kingston, you know I'm always thinking of you." He squeezes her hand gently.

"Are you?" she says. "Good to hear."

"In so many ways," he says, and then he's got that sexy voice on again. 

"Even better," she says.

"I didn't want to presume," he says. "Which is another reason I didn't tell you I'd be in town. But if you're free, I'll be excessively alone in my hotel room tonight."

"Just your luck," murmurs Alex, and his face falls. "My daughter's spending the night with a friend. I've got absolutely hours to fill this evening."

Matt's eyes light up. "How much would Kazza hate us if we left now?"

"More than a little bit," Alex says. "But I think an hour will more than suffice."

"Hmph," Matt grumbles. 

"Come on," she says, smiling at him. "Let's circulate. Pretend we're not counting the minutes."

"I'm always counting the minutes," he says with longing, but he lets her guide him back toward the little crowd. He keeps hold of her hand, though, which makes Alex tingle all over. Perhaps Karen's party is safe; perhaps the rumor will percolate out. But she imagines that it's already on the Internet somewhere - everyone is sleeping together on the Internet, it seems - and that gives her some small amount of comfort. It isn't that she's ashamed, of course. It's only that it's nobody's business but their own, and she doesn't want anyone hurt. But Matt's warm fingers twined through hers give her confidence. If a storm comes, they'll weather it together.

They mingle and make small talk for about half an hour, until Karen trots over to them.

"You know I love you both," she says, slinging an arm around each of their necks, "but why in the name of God are you still here? I thought you'd have snuck out ages ago."

"We didn't want to be rude," Matt says.

"Thank you," Karen says, gravely and with more than a hint of tipsiness. "I appreciate that. Really, I do. Thank you for not being rude in my new flat. Now go be very, very, unspeakably rude somewhere else. I'm afraid to even light a candle with all this unresolved tension in the room."

"Bless you," Matt says, kissing her swiftly the cheek. 

"Ridiculous," Karen tells him.

"Thank you," Alex says fervently.

"Yeah, well," Karen says, looking pleased with herself. "It's Christmas."

"It's not," Matt tells her. "But nearly, now."

"Close enough," Alex assures him.

They manage to keep their hands off each other in the taxi, staring at each other as Matt traces shapes across Alex's palm and wrist. She shivers, her body warming. She holds out all the way across the hotel lobby, but they've got a lift to themselves and she can't resist him any longer. Almost before the doors close, she's got her hands in his hair, pulling his face down for a long, long kiss. His tongue slides hard against hers and she's nearly breathless already. She's surprised there's no actual crackling noise from the spark of electricity between them. The lift pings at them impatiently and Matt stabs at the button with one finger before his hands are sliding down her back again. God, it feels better than anything she's even dreamed of. She keeps one hand around the back of his neck, but her other hand wanders to his hip; his t-shirt has rucked up and his skin is warm and smooth under her fingers. He groans and pulls her hard against him.

They stumble out of the lift on his floor, which is fortunately also empty. Matt nearly drops the key, so Alex takes it, her other hand still under his shirt, and opens the door. They stagger through it with their arms locked around each other. There's absolutely no need for him to still have clothes on once the door closes, so Alex tugs until he raises his arms and she can pull his shirt off. 

"Fair's fair," he murmurs, and undoes her buttons, kissing her lingeringly for each one he gets open. She shrugs her shoulders back and helps him push the sleeves down her arms. By the time her shirt hits the floor, she's already reaching for the button of his jeans.

"In a hurry?" he asks. "We've got all night, haven't we?"

"How could one night ever be enough?" she says back, sliding her hands under his waistband.

"It doesn't have to be this way," he says softly.

She pauses, looking into his eyes. He really has the loveliest eyes, always full of stars. "You know better than that, my love."

He lets his head drop. "Yeah, I do."

"In a perfect world," she says. "In a perfect world where work was steady and all in one place, and in a perfect world where people could just be a family, just like that, without any hurt or pain, then yes. It wouldn't be this way. But we chose this life, you and me, and it's nearly impossible to undo that choice. It's nothing I would ever ask of you. And I haven't got any other skills anyway. This is what I'm good at."

"Yeah, it's a bit late to break into professional football," he mumbles. "Although I supposed Beckham is leaving Galaxy and all."

Alex chuckles. "I'm sure they'd have you in an instant."

"If only," he says wryly.

"I'll have you," she says. "Does that make up for it?"

"Better than anything," he says with a smile.

"Good," she says. "Then let's not waste time."

"You make an extremely compelling point," he says, reaching for the zipper of her skirt. She kicks off her shoes as she shoves his jeans down his hips. 

After that it's all a haze of clothing flung across the room, of lips and tongues and fingers and every glorious inch of his skin pressed up against hers. They stagger over to the bed, unwilling to let go of each other, and fall onto the covers. Matt's hands are all over her, stroking her frantically, touching her as if he'll never get enough. She would swear that his fingers leave trails of shimmering sparks where they touch her. He strokes her breasts and her back arches. 

"Oh, Ms Kingston, I _missed_ you," he murmurs into the hollow of her cleavage.

"I missed you too," she says. 

"Take another job in Cardiff," he says. "Or at least in London. I don't like this bloody great ocean between us."

"And it isn't even the big one," she says, stroking his hair as his tongue swirls around her nipple.

"No," he agrees grudgingly, "but then there's most of America as well, isn't there?"

"You could call," she tells him. "We can have phone dates."

He props himself up. "That's lovely," he says. "We haven't had dates before."

She blushes. "Well, I suppose it's about time."

He studies her very seriously. "You know I'd look for jobs in LA if you wanted. I didn't think I should interfere."

"I think I'd like that," she says softly. "As long as we were in the same place. We'll manage the other things. One way or the other." She can't quite imagine how, but she knows they'll find a way. She's managed things so far, and this is nearly the second Christmas they've been this way. It feels, suddenly, as if it's time to make a decision. She finds she already knows the answer.

"This is big," he says, his eyes searching her face.

She breathes out slowly. "Believe me, sweetie, I know."

"We'll go slow," he promises.

"We couldn't possibly go much slower than this," she tells him, sliding her knee between his.

"Well then," he says, smiling, "perhaps it's time to get things started, eh?"

"Please," she says, wrapping her arms around him. His skin is hot and perfect against hers. She's dizzy with his nearness. His lips find hers and his hand slips between her legs. She gasps against his mouth as he strokes her. Pleasure shocks through her; the friction of his fingers is nearly too much. 

"God, Matt," she says, breathless.

"I love the way you say my name," he murmurs. 

"Ahh!" she says as he finds a particularly sweet spot. "I'd be happy to say it more often."

"Soon," he says, and then he's kissing her so fiercely that she nearly forgets her own name. There's only his mouth and his hands and the lean hard length of his lanky body against hers, and her body and the way it warms and softens at his touch. There's only the heat of their pounding hearts. There's only the rush of pleasure that grows with every gasp and moan. There's only the perfection of them, the friction of them, the growing urgency. His mouth is on her mouth, then on her breast, then leaving a searing line of kisses down her hip. His tongue flickers against her clit and she can't stop her hips from bucking. He laughs, low and sexy. 

"Funny?" she gasps.

"You're incredible," he says in a tone of such worship she almost comes undone then and there. Instead she grabs him and pulls him up closer.

"I need all of you," she tells him. It sounds ridiculous, straight out of a romance novel, but it's absolutely true: she wants every inch of him possible lined up with every inch of hers. No matter how talented he is with that tongue, she's too desperate to enjoy it, and too aware of how little time they'll have together. He presses his body against hers. She spreads her legs, letting his hips settle over hers, and sighs happily as he slides in.

"Alex," he says, with so much love and yearning in his voice that tears prickle absurdly in her eyes.

"I do love you," she says impulsively, and then bites her lip.

"Thank you," he says, sounding as if he means it. "I did want to be the first one to say it, but then again, I didn't, so thank you."

"How long have you been holding out?" she teases him. 

"Oh, nearly forever," he tells her. "One day at a time, naturally."

"Naturally," she says, hooking her leg over his hips and urging him to move. "And now?"

"I think I'll say it loads," he tells her, stroking her breast as he sets up a rhythm. "I love you. Did you know?"

"I suspected," she tells him. "And I rather hoped."

"I love you," he says again. He kisses her. "I love you."

"All right, all right," she says in mock reproof. "Back to business. You can tell me again tomorrow."

"Once a day will never be enough," he says, pouting.

"It'll have to do for now," she tells him.

"I suppose," he says, and leans down for a kiss. She lifts her mouth to meet his as she wraps her arms and legs around him. Their bodies move in a lovely syncopation, rising and falling. Every time her skin brushes his, she climbs a little higher. She's missed him desperately this last while, touched herself thinking of him, but her fingers are never the same as his. He fills her up so perfectly. She gazes into his eyes as he moves, and it sends another shockwave of pleasure through her to see the genuine adoration there, the heat of desire mixed with the sweetness of love. Knowing that he wants her so badly makes every touch even more poignant. God, she could live in the circle of his arms, his mouth blazing a trail of kisses down the tender side of her neck and his hair falling over her face. 

She comes almost before she expects it, the shudder hitting her out of nowhere as she looks into his eyes. He kisses her, swallowing her moans, holding her tight but not stopping, and she strokes his back. It doesn't take him long either; after a few moments, he's shivering and whispering her name with an urgency that sends a whole new shudder through her. She pulls him close as he topples sideways onto the bed. He groans.

"Bloody stupid _ocean_ ," he says. He strokes her cheek and toys with her hair. 

"Hush," she tells him. "We've got tonight, anyway. That's a start." 

He leans closer and kisses her forehead. "One night at a time now, is it?"

"As long as a night's what we've got," she said. 

"Then I'll try to make it last," he promises. She tucks her head against his shoulder and listens to the thud of his heart, smiling. 

"Could do with a TARDIS about now, couldn't we?" she jokes.

"Better than a private jet," he says. "I could change my flights."

"As much as I'd like to say yes," she says, "it would be easier to make a plan for next time."

"What," he says, "a planned meet-up like a proper couple?"

"Just like one," she says, her heart pounding. He ducks his head and kisses her.

"Deal," he says. 

She lets out a long breath and suddenly everything is very, very right with the world.


End file.
